


Miracle Mile

by apostapals (apostapal)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Aberdeen Surana, Agender Hawke, Gender-Neutral Hawke, Kendall Hawke, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7485804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apostapal/pseuds/apostapals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hawke gets left in the Fade, Fenris seeks a new life and purpose among the Grey Wardens. But what happens when Hawke comes back, with a spirit passenger no less, and they're left to try and piece back together their tattered life together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Cannot Live Without My Soul

“Champion, this is your fight to end.”

Kendall’s shoulders slump, eyes fixed on the Nightmare before them, and their lip quivers slightly. Then their jaw sets, brows furrow, and they nod.

“Tell everyone…” they sigh, “Maker, forget it. Make something up.” Kendall takes a moment, inhaling deeply, and then turns to look at the Inquisitor and Warden Alistair, “Make sure it’s poetic. Varric needs to believe I went out waxing poetics.”

The Inquisitor nods, readying themselves for the opening, and Kendall’s eyes go back to the Nightmare.

_Don’t go where I can’t follow._

They laugh, sadly, and shake their head before stepping towards the demon. Fire, never something they summoned but with fear, flows from their hands and the two behind them escape out of the Fade.

Left alone with the Nightmare, they stop to speak to it. Because, perhaps, things could be easier.

“Couldn’t you take a nicer form for me?” they ask, leaning heavily on their staff, “There are some faces I’d like to see one last time. Even… even if they’re not real.”

The Nightmare, writhing legs and eyes, just laughs cruelly.

“That would be too kind.” it speaks into their thoughts, “This is for nothing, little one. Everyone will die.”

Kendall sighs loudly, reclining back on their heels a moment, and then moves to fight again.

 

“Where’s Hawke?”

The Inquisitor looks to Varric, face fallen, and remembers the Champion’s words.

_Wax poetics._

“Hawke died a hero. Bravely, to get us through.”

But Varric can’t hear anything but the ringing in his ears. He can’t hear anything for a long time. Until the Inquisitor comes to him back at Skyhold, while he stares hopelessly down at the manuscript he’s trying to write.

The Tale of the Champion was supposed to have a happy ending.

 

_Someone should let Fenris know._

“Are you… Maker, are you alright?”

Anders trips over his feet, shocked at the sight of Fenris biting back tears. The elf flings the paper in his hands towards Anders, covers his mouth, and chokes on a sob. Anders looks down at the page, Varric’s formal handwriting saying things like _’I’m so sorry’_ and _’this is my fault’_ , and his knees give way under him.

They make it to Vigil’s Keep a week later than expected. Fenris says no more than three words the whole way, eyes incessantly red.

Warden-Commander Surana greets them with open arms but gives Fenris distance. She sees, painfully so, what she could have been. If the Inquisitor had chosen differently. Three days in, however, the elf approaches her himself.

“Make me a warden.”

Surana jumps slightly, blinking at him, and asks, “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve no other purpose.” Fenris explains, easing himself into the chair across from her, “Give me one before I do something foolish.”

“You know what this means…” she replies slowly, “A shortened lifespan, sometimes not past your joining, and all the darkspawn you can kill. Glory, honor, and death.”

Fenris nods shakily.

“My life is gone. This seems a fitting send off.”

He lives through his joining, gagging on the darkspawn blood, and is suited up the following day. Anders pulls on his old warden robes, for Fenris’ benefit—to try and achieve some symbol of brotherhood, and they sit together on the battlements and talk for the first time in weeks.

“Are you sorry you survived the joining?” Anders asks quietly.

Fenris shakes his head. “If I’d wanted to die, I would have picked an easier path.”

The mage gives a small noise of agreement and rests his chin on his knees.

“If I am to die,” the elf adds after a moment, “I would like to do so in a way that doesn’t risk my potential to see them after.”

Anders nods, finally understanding, and pats at Fenris’ shoulder.

_In death, sacrifice._


	2. Haunt Me

He's been a warden for months when it happens. He's already used to smelling of the Taint and ogre spit and something almost kin to the ground after rain—but laced with the mildew of the Deep Roads. He's accepted this life fully, for all it is.

But Fenris understands why Anders does not go on away missions anymore. Truthfully, he's not sure why the mage remains with the Wardens at all. Other than for himself and for Warden Commander Surana, both of whom he gladly sticks around as resident healer for.

He doesn't need to for _him_ , Fenris maintains. He has purpose now. A reason, if bleak, to keep going. And, though no better, things have become easier in the past few months as his mourning has entered the stage of feeling empty—rather than filled with harsh pain and anger.

They're returning from one such outing, Sigrun talking merrily at his side despite his wordless grunts in reply, when the first letter arrives at the keep. Nathaniel hands it off to him dismissively as they enter, returning to his other letter sorting, and strides off as Fenris stares down at the scrawl across the envelope. Varric's handwriting.

Inside he's met with only one sentence.

_'Hawke is alive.'_

He drops the paper in the middle of the great hall, flinching as if he's seen a ghost, and stares at it a moment. Then, anger washes over him.

What a cruelty this is. What worthless creature would torment him like this? He places a foot on it and grinds the paper against the stone floors angrily before leaving in a rush, crumpled paper remaining where it fell.

He receives the next letter a few days later, sitting in the dining hall trying to stuff as much food into his mouth as he can manage. The Gray Warden appetite, even months in, is torture.

Velanna hands it to him this time, remarking something about how popular he's been, and strides off before he can reply. Another note mimicking Varric's handwriting, clearly. He nearly crumples it without reading but there's something hefty in the envelope—more than just a paper letter.

_'Broody, I mean it. Write back NOW. They need to know you're not in the Deep Roads dying like some fool.'_

He shakes the envelope over his palm and out drops a small metal ring with a red gem set into it. He nearly drops it, vision blurring as he realizes what it is, and stares down at it with wide eyes. One of Hawke's earrings; he remembers seeing it hanging in the bit of cartilage between their lobe and ear shell, always. They'd never removed it in all the years he'd been around them.

Hot tears are pooling in his palm before he can even register he's crying. He's not sure, exactly, why he's crying. Be it because of hope or fear or some other unresolved feeling he cannot say.

Fenris writes Varric back as soon as he can see well enough to do so. The page is a single line of nervous chicken scratch and he sends it as soon as a messenger arrives the next morning.

_'I am here. Please don't be a lie.'_

He tells no one. This may be from fear he is being tricked, not wanting others to be baited into his ignorant hope, or it may simply be because he's certain if he speaks the words they will be wrong.

Fenris waits, baited, till the next letter arrives nearly a week later. He tears the letter open when it is still half in Warden-Commander Surana's hand. She doesn't seem to notice his eagerness.

This is the longest one yet and he reads the whole thing while holding his breath in the middle of the library. Varric's elegant scrawl explains that Hawke, _his Hawke_ , had somehow left the Fade. Science and magic elude Varric and Fenris is glad the dwarf does not attempt to explain, in detail, how this is possible.

Instead, Varric explains that Kendall had been weakened somehow. The past few weeks they'd been barely able to speak and no one had been sure they'd recover.

The moment they could hold a proper conversation, they'd asked about Fenris.

_'They know you went all taint-brigade. I told them you'd have to explain why yourself.'_

Fenris almost laughs. At the time, his choice had seemed a proper one. He had purpose and drive where there had been none. Now... he wonders how he'll explain himself. The idea of telling Kendall he'd joined the Gray Wardens had never crossed his mind, given the situation.

 _'They're well enough to travel now.'_ Varric's letter went on, _'In a few days, they'll be leaving for the Keep.'_

Fenris finds himself breathing a sigh of relief that the letter arrived before Hawke did. Perhaps he'll have time to figure out how to explain it to them. The last line of the letter, however, catches his eye and he reads it a few times before it even registers.

_'You both have a lot to explain to each other.'_

There was nothing, in his mind, Hawke was required to explain. They were alive and they were going to see him again and nothing else in the whole universe mattered to him.

 

When Kendall arrives, weeks later, Fenris is still sleeping. Nathaniel rouses him from bed, calmly saying he has a visitor—as if this is some normal visit rather than the reunion it is, and he springs to life like he's never done before. He's dressed and in the greeting hall in minutes and then time seems to slow quite abruptly.

He sees Hawke in the entryway, cloak still coated in a thin layer of snow as they shake it off, and suddenly there’s so much _color_. It’s like he’s seeing the great hall for the first time. No longer do the gray stone walls and brick flooring look monochrome and dull; there are subtle nuances everywhere he’s amazed he never saw before now.

Hawke is blues and reds and rich browns on the backdrop of snow outside. They smile at him and he feels frozen then. Like if he moves the moment will end and everything will wash out again and he’ll be alone and foolish. He doesn’t realize he’s stopped breathing until his lungs force him to fill them again, a haggard gasp shaking his chest.

Embarrassingly, Anders arrives behind him and is across the expanse to Hawke before him. The mage takes Kendall’s face in his hands and studies them as if to be sure they’re real. He’s smiling and saying something but Fenris can’t hear it. He’s too busy, eyes comprehending everything that had been dull since the moment he received that first letter from Varric months ago.

“Fenris?”

He breathes again, choking on the lump in his throat at the sound of their voice, and clears the distance between them in what feels like a single step.

Everything is crisp and bright and warm where it was blurred and muted and cold. Anders steps aside and Fenris grabs their face, fully expecting the dream to end. Hawke smiles, eyes soft, and he kisses them–-still sure they’ll be gone at any moment.

When he pulls back, breathing ragged, they’re still there.

Were he like he’s been the past few months he may not have noticed but now, with the world in color, he sees cracks of faint pink and red across their skin for just a moment. Like a sunset; but just a flash.

“What was..?”

Kendall shakes their head and grips his forearms, pulling him into an embrace. He smells like darkspawn and cave water but they bury their face in his shoulder and breathe deeply all the same. They just smell like _Hawke_ and he feels his eyes water as he presses his nose to the crook of their neck. He holds them and waits. Whether it’s for them to explain or for the dream to end he cannot say.

“There are a lot of things I need to tell you.” They mumble into his shoulder after a moment, “Things I’m not sure you’ll like.”

“You are here.” Fenris replies, “Everything else is secondary.”

And it is. He won’t allow anything to get in the way lest he finally wake alone again.


	3. O Hope

In retrospect, Fenris knows he could have guessed what happened. This is not something he hasn't seen before, after all. But the mere idea doesn't even cross his mind until someone else explains what, exactly, brought Hawke back from the Fade.

“ _You_. Who are you?”

Kendall stops, as if they were expecting Justice to reach out—blue crackling Anders' skin—and grab them by the arm when they went to walk further into the keep. They smile, full of nerves, and Fenris barely has time to register what's happening as it does.

“Justice, it's—“

“I did not ask _you_ , Hawke. I asked it.” Justice grabs Kendall's face, holding their cheeks, and there's a spark.

Something like lightning, purple and violent. Fenris feels the lyrium in his arm burn. And, suddenly, that sunset colored flash is back across Kendall's skin. But this time, it stays.

Their eyes are glowing, pink and orange and red, and they wither in Justice's hold. Like they are afraid—something Fenris has never seen Kendall meet the spirit with. Then they speak... with a voice that is not their own.

“Justice, you know—!”

“Speak your name and no lies!” the spirit hisses, still clutching Hawke's face and keeping them from jerking away.

“Hope!”

Still not Hawke's voice, still using Hawke's body and face. Still using Hawke's hands to grab weakly at Anders'—Justice's—hands. Still glowing like a sunset under Kendall's skin.

Justice leans back, shock fluttering across his face, and repeats the voice. “Hope?” he asks, “Where did Hawke find a spirit like you?”

_Spirit?_

“I don't know, I don't know!” Hope is shaking its head, face freed finally, and covering its ears.

Justice's face softens, he sighs, and the blue glow fades slightly as he says, “I'm sorry I scared you.”

Anders returns now, blinking a few times before the light behind his eyes fades, and he watches in mystified horror with Fenris as Hawke's form sinks to their knees and the glow slowly dissipates to nothing. They gasp a few times, like they'd forgotten how to breathe, and sit on the tile floor of the keep with their hands still clutched over their ears.

Finally, Anders leans down and speaks to them.

“You're alright, Hawke. You're here.”

Fenris can't move. He feels rooted, shocked into silence and stillness. Hawke is _possessed_? No, not possessed. Something else, something there isn't a name for. Something like Anders and Justice. Still, it's too close for comfort and too far for understanding.

“Couldn't let me get dinner first, could you, Justice?” Kendall speaks, in their own voice again, and laughs breathlessly into their sleeve. Fenris steps closer as Anders helps them to their feet.

They meet his gaze just for a moment, then look away. Shame, they look shamed. Somehow, Fenris is certain they're remembering his words of malice towards 'weak-willed' mages. Words built with fear and lack of understanding.

“So, you made a deal..?” he asks.

“No deal. Just helping someone who helped me.” Kendall replies, eyes on the stone floor, “It found me. But it was just a fragment, a wisp. I took it in so it didn't... vanish. As thanks, for leading me out.”

“What a pair we make. Possessed and blighted.”

Kendall finally meets his gaze again, smiling weakly, and says, “All for love, right?”

Fenris reaches out, brushes his knuckles across their cheek, and smiles. Behind their eyes, faint and almost unnoticeable, the sunset remains. Watching, cautious. Somehow, Fenris feels no fear of it.

“All for love.” he repeats, fingers trailing down the line of their jaw as he pulls away.

 

Hope is, as far as they can tell, a fragment of a fragment. It is less a complete thought like Justice and more a leftover piece of something greater. Justice, through Anders rather than personally this time, offers some explanation on why and how.

“Hope is one of the rarest spirits in the Fade. It hardly ever seeks mortals; we don't usually have much to offer... Perhaps the reason Kendall found this one is because it wasn't complete. It was dying, almost. If spirits can die.”

Fenris only shrugs. He can offer no other input. Spirits and demons make little sense to him. Anders so often speaks of them like they are people. Fenris isn't sure whether or not this is right.

Hawke sleeps almost directly after eating dinner. They pile into Fenris' bed, still half-dressed in their robes and furs, and bury their face in his pillow. Fenris knows it has to stink of taint and sweat and dirt for all the nights he's been too tired to bathe before sleeping but Hawke still sleeps as soundly as they did in their bed in Hightown—like his sheets are satin and smell of sage and citrus.

He doesn't sleep at first. Sleeping, until very recently, has been largely pointless anyway—often cut short by nightmares and an ache in his chest. The ache is gone but the nightmares still linger sometimes, clouding his mind. Instead, he watches them. The rise and fall of their chest, the flutter of their eyelids in their sleep, the occasional wrinkle of their nose or brow.

“Why are you over there?” they ask, rolling over in the dead of night and finding Fenris propped in a chair next to the bed.

He stifles a yawn and shrugs.

“Does it... make you nervous?”

There's an uncertain shake in their voice that instantly tears at Fenris' heart. They watch him, wary, as he rises from the chair stiffly and moves across the room to them.

“I trust you. If you think this is safe then... I trust that it is.” he says, fingers teasing through their sleep-mussed hair.

Relief washes over Hawke and they smile up at him, shifting slightly to give him room. Fenris sits next to them, still carding his fingers through their hair, and they settle back into the pillows.

“Truth be told, I'm still not sure it was a good idea. But I just... wanted to see you again.” they murmur, already drifting off.

Fenris thinks of his own choices, thinks of the foul tainted blood he choked down and the blue armor he traded his old garb for, and understands. _To follow_ , in whatever way that meant.

“Thank you, for returning.” he says softly and sinks down into the mattress next to them.

They smile sleepily, press their forehead to his, and coil their arms around his waist. This could still be a dream, Fenris thinks, as he clutches them as closely as he can—arms and legs tangling with theirs. It could still end, he could still wake up alone.

When he doesn't wake to an empty bed but instead Hawke's weight putting one of his arms to sleep and their breath warm on his neck, it finally sinks in. He's tainted and they're carrying a spirit but they're together, against all possible outcomes.

He doesn't realize he's weeping until Kendall reaches up, still half asleep, and wipes at his cheek with their thumb.

“Shh,” they hum and press a kiss to his chin, “you should have known I'd never leave you.”

He did, deep down. But _Hope_ is a fragile, easily frightened thing.


	4. Come Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reality of warden life and possession become clearer.

_When the Nightmare falls, Kendall isn’t sure they’re even alive anymore._

_Their knees hit the ground and they struggle to breathe. Punctured lung, blood pooling somewhere in their gut, and broken ribs are just the things they can catalog themselves. Things they are immediately aware of._

_It’s much worse than that._

_“I just…” they breathe, more to the rock under them than themselves. “I just want to go home.”_

_They think of Fenris now. They’d tried so hard not to before but now, left to bleed out after having actually beaten the demon, it’s maddening. He’s so far away. He’s so far and he’ll be so lost._

_“Please be mad at me.” Kendall whispers and hunches over, one hand grasping the hole in their side. “Please. I deserve it.”_

_They keep breaking promises._

_They’re about to lay down. About to simply give in and let sleep take them. They’re not sure what it is like to die already in the Fade. Perhaps it will be quicker…_

_“Get up.”_

_Kendall’s vision blurs for a moment as they whip their head to one side, trying to see the source of the voice. Are they losing what little grasp on reality they have left now? Hearing voices in the dim green dark?_

_“Get up! Please!”_

_No, that’s not a voice they know. It can’t be someone calling from their memory. It’s someone new. Something new._

_“Are you a demon?” they ask, “Finish me off quickly. I’m useless to you like this.”_

_The voice laughs. Like a high-pitched giggle. It’s somehow nice—pleasant to hear after all the screaming and roaring of the fight._

_“No, I’m not a demon. I’m safe. I want to help.”_

_It almost sounds convincing._

_“You just have to get up, Hawke.”_

_“How do you… know my name?” Kendall asks._

_An orb floats into view, pink and red and orange, and the laugh floats to their ears again. They watch the changing colors curiously, vision blurring in and out and making it look even more strange._

_“I’ve been watching you, Hawke.” it says, “You called to me, once, when you were small.”_

_“What kind of spirit could I have called down?” Hawke asks, voice slurring._

_“Hope.” the spirit says, “Don’t lose it. Not now. I want to help.”_

-

The reality of their situation doesn’t hit until a few days later. When Surana calls for a group to check on a cave connecting to the Deep Roads and Fenris, being the junior-most warden, is automatically drafted into the excursion.

“So… the whole warden thing is, uh, real.” Kendall says, voice wavering just slightly, and Fenris nods.

He can’t look at them—not right now. Not with his blues on and his pack at his feet, currently getting stuffed with his usual spartan gear. He knows the face they’re making and it’s painful.

“It’s only a few days, Hawke.” Fenris says, posture tight as he gets to his feet and slings his pack over his shoulder.

He turns to them, intending to offer his usual assurances, and stops short. Hawke’s standing there, one hand over their mouth, in what looks like the beginnings of a panic attack. Their eyes, back-lit by gold and pink, are glossy and far off. He steps closer, drops his pack off his shoulder, and takes their face in his hands.

“Kendall.” he speaks quietly and soothingly but they’re already fighting to keep their breathing even. “Shh, it’s alright.”

“You—you could die.” Kendall blurts, voice hitching. They grab his hands with their own and squeeze his fingers. “You could die at any moment. Shit, you’re dying right now.”

Fenris knows this. This is what he accepted—even sort of wanted—about being a warden. But this was before Hawke came back to him.

Hope is fragile. Fenris can feel the pull of the Fade on Kendall’s skin. The spirit is panicked—arguably more-so than Hawke themselves. He has to do something quickly or something awful could happen to both of them.

“I’m coming back. I promise.” he presses his lips to their forehead. “I swear it. Not even the grave could keep me from returning to you.”

“How do you know?” Kendall asks, and Fenris can hear that other voice echo in the background of theirs.

“You came back to me.” he says, “The least I can do is return the favor.”

-

_Joining with Hope is more painful than Anders described his joining with Justice as. But perhaps, Hawke thinks, this is because they are already dying._

_For a long while, they simply lay on the ground and stare up at the Black City in the endless horizon. Hope bubbles, urges them to go, but they cannot. Not yet. Everything hurts._

_“There is a way, please get up.” the whisper is both inside and outside their head in the Fade._

_Finally, Kendall sits up._

_“How far is it?” they ask, bracing themselves on their splintered staff. “I’ll need to rest again soon.”_

_They can feel Hope thing for a moment._

_“It is far.” it says finally. “But you will make it. We will make it.”_

_“Everything hurts.” they sigh._

_“Talk to me.” Hope offers, “Talk about anything to take your mind off it.”_

_Hawke turns in the direction Hope tells them, takes a few labored steps before falling into a suitable pace across the uneven terrain, and thinks on what could be a suitable topic. There’s only one thing on their mind. Only one reason to be hopeful._

_“I should tell you about Fenris.” they say finally, soldiering onward. “He’s why I’m going anywhere, after all.”_

_Hope bubbles inside them again, excited._

_“Oh, please do.” they say, “He makes you so… happy. I can feel it.”_

_Hawke smiles to themselves faintly._

_“Yeah. He does that.”_

-

Kendall doesn’t sleep for the days that follow. Anders tries but the best he can do is get them to lie down, eyes fixed on the ceiling, for hours on end before they give up and rise from bed again.

“He’s with Surana. She won’t have anyone die or left behind, I swear it.” he says.

But it does little to help. Fenris is not there and, after all their time apart, it feels unfair to expect Kendall to be okay with it.

On their fifth day, Anders is even worried. But he won’t let on. Won’t let Kendall and Hope feed off his own fears. Not with their bond as painfully warped as it is this early.

The sixth day, Kendall confronts him.

“Why aren’t they back?” they ask, hands working in knots in front of them.

“I don’t know.” Anders says finally, eyes fixed on the ground. “Something… something must have come up.”

Not even the grave will keep Fenris from them, Hawke knows. But they’re not about to make him have to endure that much if they can stop it.

They grab Anders’ arm, pleading.

“Take me where they went?” they ask, “Please, Anders.”

Anders hesitates, worrying his lower lip with his teeth, and finally caves.

“Fine.” he says, “But we’re doing this my way.”

-

_“You love him very much.” Hope says, then giggles in their bubbly way. “I like it.”_

_Hawke smiles and, somehow, feels lighter for it. Their steps come easier through the dusty land around them. They find themselves leaning less on their staff. Perhaps Hope was right._

_“He’ll love you.” they say, as if realizing it. “I just know it.”_

_They’re not sure how they know this, but they do. Fenris is softhearted, in truth, and he could never turn away such a similar soul such as Hope._

_They can feel Hope smile._

_“Oh, I hope so."_


	5. Come Up For Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just keep going for the chance to be together again. You've done it before, you can do it again.

The first half of the walk through the Deeproads is quiet. Too quiet for Fenris' liking, really, but he trusts his commanding officers enough not to speak up when they venture on. Nathaniel keeps to the front of the group, mabari at his side, and Fenris slowly finds himself in the company of Surana.

“Hawke seemed worried.” she says quietly, voice still echoing off the rock walls around them. “Are they going to be alright?”

Fenris can only shrug. He doesn't know. Kendall has already been through so much. Lost so much. He feels guilty for making them endure further loss at his own terrible mistakes.

“Being a warden isn't the end.” she goes on, looking up at him with a gentleness he'd yet to see from the hardened woman in the past months he's known her.

“It brings about a rather abrupt ending.” Fenris replies wryly.

She goes to speak again but Nathaniel halts them, dog at his side growling, and she darts forward to speak to him. Fenris is striving to hear them, head tilted to the side, when he realizes there's another noise. A loud wooshing just down the passage left of them. He has only moments to turn, spotting the beast headed towards him, before the world goes suddenly black.

-

When they arrive at Anders' selected entrance Kendall is so jittery he almost turns them around right there. Crackles of pink and yellow litter their skin, putting him on edge, but he knows Hope is just a reflection of Hawke's own turmoil.

“Stay with me, Kendall.” he pleads, taking their face in his hands. “I swear to you that he's alright. I promise it. I'll lay the promise on my mother's grave.”

Kendall meets his gaze a moment then squeezes their eyes shut. Exhales loudly. And nods.

“Okay. Okay.” they breathe, “I'm alright, Anders. We're alright.”

Heading in, he really doesn't know what they'll find. Greater men than Surana's had been taken down in the Deeproads before. Even routine trips. But he can't bring himself to believe his friends would be in that kind of danger. They've done this too many times. And she always took care of them.

-

When Fenris comes to he can hear Surana and Nathaniel speaking but they sound... far away. He blinks and shifts, body screaming at him as he goes, and looks around. His night vision picks up a crack of light across the dusty room and he moves towards it. Their voices get louder.

“Hello?” he ventures.

Aberdeen gasps and her hand shoots through the crack in the rock. Fenris hesitates a moment, then takes it.

“Fenris!” she says, grasping at his hand. “You're alive!”

“It would seem so.” he says with a faint chuckle, reaching out with his other hand to pat the back of hers.

“We're going to get you out.” she says. Fenris feels her grip on his hand tighten a moment, squeezing, then she shifts and he releases her.

Through the crack he can hear papers moving. His head still feels foggy, as if he's still half asleep, and when he reaches up to rub at it his hand comes away wet with blood.

“What happened?”

“Ogre.” Nathaniel's voice. More papers moving. Fenris leans forward and presses his aching forehead to the cool rock in front of him. “Caused a rock slide. We were able to get rid of it but the rocks fell past were it threw you and we weren't sure you were even still alive.”

Fenris blinks, squinting at the crack, and asks, “Then why are you still here?”

There's a long pause and Fenris thinks for a brief moment something has come out to attack them. Then, Aberdeen's hand sticks back through the crack. After a tic, he takes it. She squeezes at it harder than before and he's slightly surprised at the strength in her tiny hand.

“I don't leave my wardens.” she says firmly.

Fenris laughs humorlessly but his words are genuine. “Thank you.” he says, “I'd hate for this to be my tomb.”

“Never. Not my wardens. We're going to get you out of here.” Aberdeen promises. And, even in the face of everything, Fenris feels Hope in it.

-

“How do you handle it, Anders?”

The mage pauses, glancing back at Kendall, and shrugs. He's been expecting the question since they first entered the Deeproads. With Hope so upset and Kendall jittery the question was bound to come up.

“What part? The closed spaces? Or the darkspawn stink? Because most of it I had stopped handling, if you remember?”

“The Calling. The... just, whole idea.”

Anders sighs and stops, letting them catch up to stand beside him. He places a hand on their shoulder gently and lets Kendall's breathing even out again. They act as if they hadn't even noticed how rapidly it was coming and going.

“The Calling is just something everyone deals with differently. My explanation won't help you make sense of how Fenris feels about it any better.”

Kendall looks at him, Hope reflecting in their eyes, and sniffles weakly. Anders holds his arms out and they duck into them, face pressed against the feathers on his coat, and sob softly.

“Fenris is a long way from The Calling, Kendall.” he promises, “You shouldn't be worrying about all this.”

“It all feels so hopeless.” they choke out, voice shaky, and Anders has to nod.

“It does, I know.” he soothes and tucks their head under his chin.

There isn't much more he can say about that. It does feel hopeless. But that doesn't really mean it is. Because being a warden was, really, all that had kept Fenris going in the first place.

It was worth giving it a chance.


	6. Step Forward

The first thing they see in the dark of the Deep Roads is that mane of red hair. Anders takes off first, running to greet the Warden-Commander, and Kendall sparks with sunset as they move towards the group and find them one person short.

“Where's Fenris?”

The answer comes from the rock next to Aberdeen. A hand, familiar and glowing faintly, reaches for them.

“Kendall? What are you doing here?”

Kendall grabs it, holds it for dear life, and fights tears. Their eyes sparkle with pink and gold. Anders, Aberdeen, and Nathaniel stay quiet.

“What happened?” they ask. Answering a question with a question. Fenris sighs.

“You were supposed to be back days ago.”

This time, Nathaniel speaks up. “We got side tracked.” he explains, holding up a map. “The delay is unrelated to, um, this.” He motions to the rocks between Fenris and themselves.

Kendall looks at him, eyes mellowing back to blue, and frowns. Chews their lower lip.

“How did you get trapped?” they ask.

“You know how much I hate ogres.” Fenris, for all their situation is, manages humor. And Kendall actually manages to laugh.

There is Hope to be found in the oddest of places, after all.

-

It takes some time to get Fenris out. Once they do, it takes time still to convince Kendall to release him from a breath-stealing hug. They have a long trek out. During it, Fenris and Kendall fall behind.

“This will be normal,” Fenris says, breaking the silence, “if I stay with the wardens.”

“I know.”

Kendall sounds crushed. They also sound as if they are trying not to sound crushed.

“I could leave..?”

Kendall looks at him a moment, then shakes their head. They smile at him sadly and catch his hand in theirs. Fenris laces their fingers together reflexively. Muscle memory. He squeezes at their hand lightly.

“You belong here now.” Kendall says slowly, “They gave you purpose when I was away. It'd be no more fair than you wanting me to be rid of Hope.”

A fair point. These were both means to and end for them. Life changing means to ends, yes, but fitting the role all the same.

“What kind of future is to be had like this?”

Kendall thinks. They look ahead, at Anders and Nathaniel—bickering like siblings. They look to Aberdeen; so young but so strong, weathered by the life of a young warden. Their grasp on Fenris' hand tightens.

“Any future with you is one I gladly walk into, Fenris.” they say finally.

Fenris glances at them and smiles, just faintly, before leaning to press his lips to their temple.

-

The life of a warden is not an easy one. Nor is the life of a mage harboring a spirit. They carry these burdens together, however, and they are made somehow lighter.

To cheat death is in both of their blood. Fenris battles through countless Deep Roads expeditions with nary a scrape to show for it. Kendall, meanwhile, learns to better understand their kindly spirit host. They shape themselves into a more Hopeful person. Into one that can better hold the tiny fragile thing it is.

“The future is always bright.” Aberdeen tells Kendall once, when Fenris is away for a few days longer than expected. “There's always brightness when there's still future ahead of you.”

Fenris makes it back with only a broken rib to show for the delay. Kendall greets him at the entry and, just like before, it's like the world lighting up again. Perhaps it's like that every time now and he just doesn't always notice.

Because there's so much color and sound when Kendall is there, darting across the greeting hall towards him with their arms open, when he's only know gray and brown and dark before. When the Deep Roads are nothing but soft footfalls and distant howls.

Fenris opens his arms, rib protesting but ignored, and catches them gladly. Spins once, lifting them off their feet, and presses his face against their cheek.

He stinks of cave and darkspawn but they grip to him for dear life all the same. Pepper his face with kisses and sparkle with pink and gold and red across their skin.

Because where there is brightness, where there is future, there is always Hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, after forever, we're done. Thanks for reading and supporting me everyone. ;u;


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